


The Nature of the Ruckus

by FrenchKey



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Darcy Lewis Is a Good Bro, F/F, Meet-Cute, Natasha is a hot mess, Originally a comment fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-09-30 05:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17218082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrenchKey/pseuds/FrenchKey
Summary: There is a parrot in Darcy's coffee shop. Darcy is not impressed by this. At least there's also a cute girl?





	1. The Parrot Incident

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tisfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/gifts).
  * Inspired by [You Had Me At Cheese Fries](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16848793) by [tisfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan). 



> This all started because of a throwaway comment about the parrot incident in Tisfan's story 'You Had Me at Cheese Fries' and a misunderstanding of Breakfast Club quotes. This happened. I regret nothing.

Darcy ducked behind the counter as a shrieking white whirlwind narrowly missed scalping her. Under that she could hear angry shouting in something that sounded decidedly Russian to her untrained ear. She poked her head up warily to see a large, heavy-set man advancing on Natalie, a petite redhead and one of their regulars. Darcy growled and reached for the mop. She liked Natalie. 

Natasha was not impressed. She'd just wanted a cup of coffee and maybe a cookie and now she was being attacked by her dickhead ex-boyfriend and his stupid bird. She swung her handbag at the feathery menace, using the other arm to protect her face. She could feel that the stupid thing had already torn out some of her hair. Behind it, Vanko was approaching.

The man was almost upon Natalie when Darcy struck. She launched out from behind the counter and stuck the mop between his feet. He tumbled head over heels. As soon as he hit the ground, Darcy upended the mop bucket over his head. Filthy water splashed down onto him, dripping down his nose and getting in his eyes. He stood up and cursed at her. Darcy was having exactly none of that and, grabbing him by the upper arm, marched him out the door. The parrot followed having finally given up on Natalie.

Natasha dropped heavily into a chair and started assessing the damage. He favourite coat was shredded at the sleeve, her handbag had been pooped on and she didn't even want to start on her hair. She told herself she had too much control to cry in public but her watering eyes seemed to be trying to turn her into a liar.

'Here,' a quiet voice said and a hand shoved a first aid kit under her nose. 'You look like you need this.'

Natasha nodded and took it. Looking up, she recognised Darcy, her favourite barista and recent rescuer. She couldn't help it. She burst into noisy sobs.

'Oh god, no. Don't do that. Please don't cry. Oh god, I'm shit with crying women, especially pretty ones. Do you want a hug? A blanket? A cup of tea? I don't have the training for this!' Darcy babbled.

Natasha giggled through her tears.

'You think I'm pretty?' she said.

'Oh my god, have you not seen yourself?!' Darcy squawked.

Natasha pointedly looked at her ripped sleeve and bloodied arm.

'Well, yeah, you're a bit banged up but you're still gorgeous. Just in need of a bandage or two. Do you want me to help?'

'Yes, please,' Natasha murmured. 'That would be lovely. Then, perhaps, I could buy you a cup of coffee to say thank you?'


	2. Metaphors in Orange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I asked for prompts on Tumblr and Tisfan asked for more of this. This is therefore all her fault. Enjoy!

‘So who was that dickface anyway?’ Darcy asked.

The two of them were crammed into the back corner of the coffee shop, at the tiny little table that no one liked to use because it was just slightly too small, slightly too far away from the counter and had no power sockets. Natasha’s arm had been bandaged expertly by Darcy (‘I’ve got lots of little cousins,’ she’d explained) and they each had a hot coffee. Now, sitting with their knees pressed together, Natasha wondered what she was doing. 

‘He’s an ex. I’ve no idea what he’s doing in this part of town. I didn’t even think he lived in New York any more,’ she said.

‘Well he’s a prick. Who takes a bird into a coffee shop anyway?’

Natasha smiled. ‘Indeed. It is hardly sanitary.’

‘Exactly! People like that have no concern for their fellow men. Women. People. Whatever. They don’t think about those of us that have to clean up the feathers and the poo and the blood. They just waltz in and cause chaos and waltz out again. You’re clearly better off shot of him,’ Darcy said, hands waving for emphasis.

Natasha pulled her coffee closer to her chest and hunched in a little. She really hadn’t expected to have to deal with Vanko today. Darcy’s assessment was completely correct: he was a prick. It had been months since she’d even thought about him and his vile bird and yet here he was, back again to ruin her life. She desperately hoped no one in the small cafe spoke Russian given some of the things he’d been yelling about.

‘Anyway!’ Darcy exclaimed, far too loudly, ‘You don’t want to talk about him. Never happened. What’s your favourite colour?’

‘Pink,’ Natasha answered automatically, still trying to shove Vanko out of her mind and keep up with Darcy’s conversational leaps.

‘Awesome. I like anything that’s bright and sparkly but if I had to pick one colour I’d probably choose orange? I feel like it’s a chronically underappreciated colour.’

Natasha couldn’t help smiling. ‘I think a lot of people find it intimidating,’ she said. ‘It’s a very bold colour. Strong. Makes its opinions known,’ she said.

‘Exactly! It isn’t afraid to be bold and speak out. A lot of people don’t like that. They think it’s too mouthy, that it should sit down and keep quiet. They just can’t handle it.’

Darcy was grinning openly and Natasha knew they weren’t talking about favourite colours any more. She was intrigued despite herself. Even with the confrontation with Vanko fresh in her mind she wasn’t willing to walk away from the first person to make her laugh (that wasn’t Clint) in weeks.

‘Can I have your number?’ she asked, cutting off what Darcy was saying about some other colour.

Darcy bounced up and down in her seat. Natasha thought she probably shouldn’t find it as endearing as she did.

‘I thought you’d never ask!’ Darcy squealed and reached for the pen behind her ear.


	3. Sure Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of conversations in Natasha's day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this won't make perfect sense if you haven't read Tisfan's 'You had me at cheese fries' but it also shouldn't be incomprehensible. I'd still recommend Tis' fic because it is excellent!

**From D. Lewis:** Ohmygosh, Nat, you will never believe what just happened?!?

 

**From NatNat:** Are you at work?

 

**From D. Lewis:** Yeeeep!

 

**From NatNat:** Does this have anything to do with your new favourite eye candy?

 

**From D. Lewis:** Aww, hun, you know you’ll always be the only eye candy I need. But, yes, it’s about Tony!

 

**From NatNat:** I suppose I’ll never guess. Tell me?

 

Natasha leaned back in her chair and stared at her inbox. It did not do her the courtesy of suddenly spontaneously deleting several hundred emails so that she no longer had to deal with them. She made an executive decision and picked up her latest cup of cold coffee. It was far past time for a break.

 

She sauntered into the break room and turned the coffee machine on. Some kind soul had remembered to refill it this time. While the coffee percolated, she read through the gossip Darcy had sent her from the coffee shop. She couldn’t help but laugh at the tale of the hapless boys.

 

**From NatNat:** Jeez, men are such disasters! Good thing we’re not like that, eh?

 

**From D. Lewis:** Yep. We’re incredibly put together adults. Totally sensible, nothing odd ever happens to us.

 

**From NatNat:** Do you want to have dinner tonight?

 

She cradled her mug as she waited for the reply. It had only been a week and a half, but she already had strong feelings for the bouncy brunette that had saved her from being mauled. It wasn’t love or anything yet, but she was smart and funny, and Natasha wanted to keep seeing her. She was going to have to tell her.  

 

Several minutes later, Phil looked up from his paperwork as Natasha stormed into his office. He closed over the file he was working on and wordlessly took the biscuit tin from his drawer.

 

‘I need the forms, Phil,’ Natasha said, grabbing two custard cremes.

 

‘Are you sure? It seems awfully soon.’

 

‘I’m not risking this one. She’s not the sort that would take it well if I waited months.’

 

‘It’s that serious already?’

 

‘No, not yet,’ Natasha admitted, ‘But I’ve got a good feeling that it could be, given time. It won’t be if I can’t be honest though.’

 

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Phil agreed. He reached once more into his drawer and handed a manila folder to Natasha. ‘Everything you need is in there. Any problems, let me know straight away, please.’

 

‘Thank you, Phil,’ Natasha said.

 

She returned to her desk and slipped the folder into her bag. The text from Darcy, agreeing to dinner sat open on her phone. She took a deep breath.

 

**From NatNat:** Want to come to my place?


End file.
